Imagine my new reality:page 1

I loved my little sister….so,so much. I had always enjoyed the horrid stories of psychotic children,mainly little girls who would kill, or merely terrify others. Of course,I never truly believed those kind of things existed, but I always forced myself to keep an extra glance for young Samantha. She was a happy, young, cheerful kid. Yknow, the kind who had imaginary friends and had tea parties with them. I never thought anything of it, though, looking back, I feel as victimized as those in the stories I once laughed at.Days started simple enough, Mom would come wake me up for school, I would complain and eventually drag myself to the bustop with Samantha. I was 14 at the time, while she was 6. She would always tell stories of those friends of her imagination. I could never say anything rude about it. Truth be told, she had no “true” friends. Her imagination was the closest thing to happiness. Samantha paid no mind to this. I pitied her, to say the least. I tried my best to be her friend,but she would push me away, say her friends of her mind were all she needed. She…was creepy. I never told her this, but my mother and father were catching on soon enough. They signed her up for ballet, though she refused to ever spend time with other children. She was lonely, and I could tell. She needed help. One day, she came to me, crying. I held her in my arms, frantically asking what was wrong. Samantha held a picture to my face. A child’s level of drawing showed a small alligator, jet black with deep bloody eyes it smiled at me. I sighed. “Why are Doodra’s eyes red?” I knew who the alligayor was, Samantha’s favorite creation of the mind. She looked at me with big eyes. “he got mad at me and left!” she whined, stomping her foot to the floor. “he LEFT, Jack, he LEEEFT!” her pitiful whines were unbearable. I held her close to my arms. “shhh, hush now, Samster, he’s just a little grumpy today. He’ll come back.” Sam looked at me with big eyes. “Y-You think so?” I laughed and poked her in the side. Squirmed in my grasp. “yeah, yeah, now go to bed ya little dork.” She giggled and skipped up the stairs to her room. I held the drawing in my hand. I…was worried. She couldn’t do this forever. Being the awesome brother I was I put the drawing of Doodra on the fridge and went upstairs to my room. I heard Samster’s voice in a whisper. “He’ll be mad at me, he’ll hate me!” she whimpered. I assumed she was talking with one of the dumb old friends of hers and went to bed. The next morning was hell. Pure hell. Her school had been closed due to a massive murder. Bodies were discovered all over the floors of the building, and blood was pooled around as if it were a flood. Words hung on the wall said “Sorry to leave you” and “I’ll be back soon”. My father had went to the police station to find out more, while me and my mother sat at the kitchen counter, staring at Samantha, who innocently nibbled on her bowl of Cheerios. “Samantha, how are you feeling honey?” my mother inquired gently. Samster looked up slowly. “Doodra is mad.” was all she would say. My mother eventually had enough and took her to a therapist. Weeks into the therapy she had invented a new friend. This one, was a large bird that seemed to resemble the child of a parrot and an eagle. Like Doodra, the eyes were a bloody red. I thought nothing of this until the following week.Her therapist had been murdered in his office. By the looks of it, he had been pierced, or stabbed to death. Again, Samantha showed no reaction to this. The day after this murder, my dad stormed in the door, demanding that me and Sam go to our rooms and not to leave until we were called to supper. Samantha obeyed without a word, and I stood atop the stairs to listen.

“the police told me horrible things, Lorie.”“What happened Dave? What’s going on?”“I’ll tell you what’s going on! The autopsies from Samantha’s school of dead bodies showed the wounds of the bodies were from alligators. The doctors compared the teeth marks and said they were the same damn animal.”“So?”“I’m not done, you know the therapist? Yeah, he was killed by a bird people say. Our kid has been drawing these things, don’t you think that’s a bit odd?!”“Dave! Our daughter has nothing to do with this! It’s a fucking coincidence!” I couldn’t hear anymore. I stomped into Sam’s room. “Sam?” I spoke gentle as possible. “Hi Jack.” I looked up and screamed. I…I couldn’t handle what I saw. Blood. BLOOD. Doodra..that fucking alligator lay by my sweet little sister’s feet, chewing mindlessly on an arm. A parrot…no, eagle, SOME MONSTER BIRD lay on her chest, as she stroked it gently.Those, were her friends. “SAM! S-SAM GET AWAY!” I screeched loudly.I try to step forward to her but the alligator gave a menacing snarl. I cried out in alarm. I could hear my parents’ footsteps dash up the staircase. “Shhhhh, Jack” Samantha smiled. “we’re playing a game!”I blacked out. The next thing I saw….was my ceiling fan. I was in bed. I sprang up immediately. “SAMMY!” I cried. I needed to know she was okay. I raced to her room. Nothing. Nothing was there. I panicked my heart was RACING. She has to be okay SHE HAS TO BE!